


Fall the Rest of the Way

by likebunnies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Auror Harry Potter, Christmas, Christmas Smut, Death from Old Age, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Infidelity, POV Alternating, POV First Person, Post Hogwarts AU, Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Pottermore, Smut, Wizarding World, Wizards, World Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 14:41:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5460146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likebunnies/pseuds/likebunnies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year that they can, Harry and Hermione go away to do Christmas shopping for their families. Being alone together always leads to other things that no one can find out about. THEY ARE MARRIED TO THEIR CANONICAL SPOUSES IN THIS STORY BUT YOU ONLY SEE HARRY/HERMIONE. </p>
<p>Loosely based on the idea in the film and play "Same Time, Next Year."  Characters do age and the inevitable happens. -- Jori</p>
<p>SERIOUSLY. READ THE TAGS. IF IT IS NOT YOUR THING, JUST MOVE ALONG. LIFE ISN'T ALWAYS HAPPILY EVER AFTER. SORRY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Paris

**Author's Note:**

> I think I started this story about seven years ago back when I couldn't write anything because of some medication I was taking. Every November I would think I need to finish the last chapters before Christmas and then Christmas would pass and I figured I'd get it done by the next Christmas. Well, it's finally done. A lot in this story was plotted out before J.K. Rowling started filling in all the little details of her magnificent world on Pottermore so there is a lot of canonical divergence in that sense, especially with their careers. And in the end, characters do age and die of old age. 
> 
> Also, I know the whole adultery thing isn't how most people like to see these two characters together. And if you know anything about the current state of my life, you're probably wondering why am I writing about that of all things. Well, I did start it years ago and to go with the inspirational material, that's what had to happen.

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

It starts off so innocently, as these things often do. A holiday. A simple holiday to buy Christmas presents for our families. Harry doesn't know what to get Ginny and I volunteer to help. I need help myself with something for Ron. We can surprise them with gifts from a Muggle store. Ron can't possibly use another Chudley Cannons blanket anyway and the whole Weasley family is always amused by anything from the Muggle world. He and I would shop for the in-laws and we would all have a wonderful Christmas morning. 

Plans are made. Harry and I will travel to any city besides London and do some shopping at the Christmas markets there. We will have fun, two old friends traveling on a short holiday, blending in around the big city while trying not to use magic. Nothing more. Nothing less. 

I let him pick the city this time and if this works out and we decide to do this again, I'll pick. 

He chooses Paris. I'm so familiar with the city, having traveled there many times with my parents, but it's new to Harry. He is fascinated when I show him the wizarding life in town, including our own Christmas markets, and it's hard to pull him away from those stores and into the Muggle shops. 

“You said you wanted to get something unique for Ginny,” I say, taking his hand in mine and pulling him away from the latest French broomstick he is coveting through the stop window. He has more money than Ron and I will ever dream of having and he can buy whatever he desires in most of these shops but I don't feel like carrying a broomstick through the streets of Paris. It would, after all, attract attention even if it was wrapped.

We spend hours wandering the streets, going from shop to shop until he finally settles on a one-of-a-kind pendant that I can't imagine Ginny ever wearing. Harry insists upon something different from anything she has ever owned and this will certainly be it. He pays for the gift and tucks it into his jacket pocket, taking my hand in his once again as we headed out to the street. The shop owner looks both amused and puzzled since Harry told him the gift is for his wife and now he's holding my hand. It isn't a relationship we expect anyone on the outside to understand. 

“Where do you want to shop for Ron?” Harry asks. It's a cold, bleak day and I shiver even though I'm wearing a heavy, navy-blue woolen coat over a jumper. 

“Oh, I have no idea! I can't think of a thing,” I say, looking up and down the street at all the fancy shop windows and trees decorated with lights. I'm sure there is nothing here Ron would like. Another book about his beloved Cannons would make him just as happy as something this posh. 

“Do you want to go back to the shops you showed me earlier?” Harry asks, nudging me with his elbow. 

“So you can buy that broomstick for your collection? I don't think so! Why don't we call it a day and start fresh tomorrow? I'm sure I'll find something before they expect us home,” I say with a sigh. 

It's getting colder by the minute and I really want to check into the hotel and then find something to eat. When we were planning this trip, Harry thought we'd be able to get everything done in a day and get home but I'm the one who suggested spending the night here. Sometimes it's just nice to get away. Ron and Ginny said this would give them a chance to do their own shopping for us and their siblings without us hanging around. I have to laugh at that because I'm sure Ron is doing nothing of the sort. I'm sure he has Ginny doing all shopping. 

“What do you want for dinner?” Harry asks. 

“I don't know yet. Why don't we check into our rooms first and then decide on that? I'd love to take a bath and change my clothes before we go out,” I say, looking down at my plain coat. I can only imagine how wrinkled my clothes are underneath. We decided it would be fun to travel as Muggles but I always forget that most forms of Muggle travel results in not only frustration but also wrinkles. Very little fun was to be had at all. If we ever do this again, perhaps we'll skip that and travel in a more traditional way. Or what would be more traditional to the two of us now. 

“You lead the way,” he says, and I have to figure out in my head exactly how far we are from the hotel I booked. Very far. Too far to walk in the cold. The street is too busy to even dare trying to disapparate from here. We'll have to make due with the backseat of a Muggle taxi. At least it will be warm. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

“And then what happened?” I ask, still laughing as she tells me another tale about how the work is coming along on the house she and Ron are fixing up. I've come over to help on a few weekends and from what I can tell, they have about another 200 years to go before it's done. 

“He took out his wand and sealed that hole up forever! Oh, you wouldn't believe the trouble he's had with the old wiring running through the place. I should have never thought we'd be able to restore an old Muggle house to meet both of our expectations. I just hope he doesn't kill himself with a light switch,” she says, shaking her head. 

“Why do you need electricity? You'd think after all these years, you'd be fine without it,” I ask. Ginny and I seem to be getting along just fine in the little house we recently moved to. I have dreams of one day moving to Godric's Hollow, making it what it used to be and raising a family there but Ginny wants to stay closer to her family for now. 

“My parents do come to visit often, Harry, and my dad likes to watch football matches on the telly. It's just easier to plug it into the wall,” she says with a shrug. “I can only expect them to adapt to my lifestyle so much and my father is certainly not going without his football.”

“Ron must love that,” I say, taking another bite of the fantastic food before me. I picked out the city but Hermione found both the hotel and the restaurant and she did a fantastic job. She always does when it comes to anything that has to be researched and selected for the occasion. 

“He's starting to catch on,” she says but I catch her rolling her eyes. I remember all the times Dean Thomas tried to explain football to Ron and he could never understand why someone would want to play a game on the ground. 

It's been a nice day. I enjoy spending time with both of my best friends but because of our careers, I see Ron a lot more and I hardly ever get to see Hermione alone anymore. Ginny is usually with me or Ron is with her. Hermione looks at me, holding my gaze for just a little too long. 

“How's married life going?” she asks, looking away at the other diners. She and Ron had married earlier than Ginny and I had even though Hermione had returned to school to finish up her final year properly. The weddings weren't too far apart but ours did come after theirs. 

“It has its moments,” I say before I can stop myself. It has its moments? What is that supposed to mean? 

“Wait until you've been married as long as Ron and I have been. Then you'll know all about moments,” she says with a laugh, looking back my way. 

“What I meant is that it's good. Some days are better than good. Other days... I don't think I was over everything that happened. She and I should have waited a little longer but all the kids were doing it,” I say, remembering how beautiful both Ginny and Hermione were in their wedding dresses. 

“Same here. I think we did it so quickly in order to regain some sense of normalcy but it's not that easy,” she says, her eyes growing dark with the memories of all we lost. Nothing will ever be normal in the Weasley household again no matter how many wonderful occasions come and go. Weddings. Babies. New houses. Nothing will ever replace all that was lost in my life. A part of me is gone and there's a place deep inside where I know a part of what I lost is a connection to evil... I don't even allow myself to think about. And I would never talk about it to Ginny. 

It's not that I'm unhappy. I'm very happy. Happier than I've ever been in my life but there is something so demanding about having to always be this way. Now that Voldemort's gone, everyone expects me to be happy. To never need to feel that darkness again. Ginny talks about the house and when we should have kids and she's happy talking about that and Quidditch and whatever else occupies her time. There is still a part of me that can't take the leap into complete bliss. There is a part of me that is still mourning the loss of so much. No one really understands that. 

No one except Hermione. 

Maybe it's because she's the friend who has always been there no matter what. The friend who wanted nothing from me but my friendship in return. 

I look at her and I know she understands. She just does. She is Hermione and she's always the one who understands. This time she doesn't look away from my gaze but rather reaches across the table to take my hand in hers. 

“Things happened that neither you or I may ever get over,” she says in a voice so low it almost gets washed away with the sound of all the diners around us. “But no one can think you'd be over it so soon, Harry. No one. Ginny must know that.”

“She wants to move forward. Always moving forward. Damn it, there are just things that are going to take more than a new house and a good job to get over,” I say, clutching her fingers in mine. They remind me of another gift I've been carrying around. One that I purchased at home a while ago, for her birthday, but I never had the chance to give it to her. . 

I pull from her grasp and dig through my coat pocket until I come up with a small box. “This is for you. I saw it when I was shopping in Diagon Alley and I thought you might like it.”

Hermione takes it from me and she looks embarrassed. “I don't have anything for you, Harry. I thought we'd exchange gifts on Christmas. Are you sure you don't want me to open this then?”

“No, go ahead and open it,” I prompt and she delicately removes the paper and opens the little box. She slips out another box and opens it. Her eyes go wide when she looks at it and then she looks at me, puzzled. 

“Harry, this is too much...” she says before she even takes the small silver ring from the box. 

“No, it's not. You're my best friend and I've never properly thanked you for all you've done for me,” I say, watching as she pulls the ring out and turns it over and over in the palm of her hand. “It has no magical qualities that I know of...”

“Yes it does,” she says, still looking shocked, and I know what she means. It might not do anything but what it represents is certainly magical. Friendship with no end. Love that expects nothing in return. 

I've gotten sappy lately. I should do something to fix that but not while she's smiling like that. 

“I meant to give it to you for your birthday but instead, Happy Christmas!” I say as she slides it on her ring finger on her right hand. “The design, it reminded me of your wand.”

“You're right,” she says, still looking at it. Then she looks at me, the smile gone. Seriousness has returned to her face. “I can't accept this, though. What am I going to tell Ron?”

“You can tell him you found it while we were shopping in Paris and that you bought yourself a Christmas present,” I say. She doesn't respond for a while and I know she's thinking about something. Probably about how I could expect her to lie to her husband. Lie to my other best friend. 

“What are we going to tell them about whatever else is going to happen tonight?” she asks. Her eyes, they hold mine in their gaze, and anything unspoken is conveyed though them. 

A lump forms in my throat and I am unable to speak for the longest time. I should say no, that this isn't what I was implying with my gift or this trip but I can't find those particular words. I need her to say no but she's not saying it. What are we doing? Why do I want to do this so badly that it now hurts? 

“We don't. We went shopping for them and we don't have to tell them about anything else at all,” I say, another lie forming so easily. I don't even recognize my voice at the moment. I don't know the person saying those words. I'm married. I'm in love. 

But I also love the person sitting across from me. I have loved her for years. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

Not a word is exchanged between us on the taxi ride back to our hotel. Not much else was said during dinner nor is a word exchanged as we walk through the hotel lobby. One of us should back out of this. One of us should come to our senses. It should be me. I'm always the sensible one. The one that's good in an emergency. Is this an emergency? 

Maybe it is because Harry hits the emergency stop button on the lift and pulls me into his arms. It's all going so fast and I want to stop but I can't stop. I want to know everything. I want to know how he tastes, how he feels, how it is to be taken by my best friend. I need to know. 

But they can never know. Never. 

“They can't find out,” I whisper and he slowly runs a hand down my back, and even though I'm still wearing my coat, the sensation makes me shiver. 

“No, never. It would kill them. They would kill us. Two curses and we'd both be gone,” he says pulling me closer. I can't get much closer and still be me. I don't know why this is happening. We are both happily married. Happily ever after. I promise. I do. 

And we will go back to our happily ever afters tomorrow but for tonight, I need to know. I need him. A part of me always wanted to know. I'm sure it's no different for him. 

“Someone will notice the lift has stopped,” I say before he can kiss me. I know he wants to and I don't want to stop him nor do I want to be stopped by anything else. I want it to be slow and sweet and not something we do standing up in a lift. That, we can do later. 

He hits the button and the lift begins to ascend toward our floor. Our rooms are on the same level but on opposite sides of the hallway. Will we go to his room? My room? Oh, I don't care. He is now holding my hand, squeezing, making sure I don't run even though that is exactly what I should do. Run somewhere and apparate home and kiss my husband and not Harry and I should do so many things and he's not one of those things but I'm not going to run. He doesn't have to hold on so tight. I'd never leave him. 

We exit the lift and he doesn't let go of my hand until he has to fumble through his pockets to find his room key. He pulls out his wand and assorted other items before he finally finds the plastic key card. “I thought I lost it,” he says, cramming the key into the slot. 

“You could have just used your wand,” I say with a nod toward the piece of wood he's holding in his hand. 

“Right. I'm not thinking straight,” he says.

Neither am I. 

Pushing the door open, he guides me into his room and the door has barely closed before I'm in his arms again. His wand and the key are abandoned on the small desk and instead his hands are tugging my coat off of my shoulders. It lands on the floor in a pile of blue wool and the two of us just stand in the center of the room not saying a word for nearly a minute. His eyes tell me everything I want to know. 

He takes my right hand into both of his and he plays with the silver ring he gave me. “You can still go. Nothing has happened. We haven't even kissed yet.”

“I know.”

But I don't go. I don't want to go. He surely knows that by now. To show him that I want this as much as he does, I pull my hand from his and place my palm on his cheek. I put my other hand on the back of his neck as I pull him in for what will be our very first kiss. 

It's so soft at first, his lips barely brushing mine. So tentative, as if he's thinking I'll back out now that we're this close. As if he's giving me that option. 

I don't want that option. 

I need to show him I don't need that option. 

My mouth meets his and a sweet, incredibly slow exploration ensues. I feel his tongue move past my lips and touch mine for the first time, and a hot spark travels through my body. My mind burns with thoughts of what we are going to do here. My body burns right along with it, the hot ache between my thighs begging for attention. This is my Christmas wish and the funny part is it wasn't even on my list yesterday. 

His hands explore my body, slipping up under my blouse, but we don't break the kiss. We're like starving people finally getting a taste of a morsel of bread. And it tastes wonderful. Now I pull off his jacket and leave on the floor on top of mine. He dressed for dinner with a tie and everything and we finally have to stop kissing just long enough for me to untie the knot and pull it from under his shirt collar, letting it drop to the floor with the our coats. 

He doesn't return to my mouth right away but instead places the softest, sweetest kisses across my cheek and down my neck. With Ron I always have to reach up for his kisses but Harry and I are closer to the same height. Harry changes all that when he sinks to his knees and begins to unfasten the tiny buttons on my blouse. He already pulled it from my skirt and I watch as his fingers deftly slip each button through the hole. I can't wait to feel those fingers on me. I can't wait to get this bloody shirt off! 

Finally! Finally it is slipping down my arms and I am left in my bra. I'm thankful I took the time to pack a decent one even if it is rather plain. It's not like I planned any of this. Ron certainly would have never let me leave the house if I had packed the naughty lingerie. 

Harry looks up at me before his fingers unzip my skirt, sending the last of my outer garments to the floor. I step out of it and finally kick off the heels I wore to dinner. He runs a finger from where my bra joins between my breasts down... down... down. I sigh as he moves past my belly button and brushes his fingertips along the lace on the top of my panties. 

“You are beautiful, Hermione,” he says, leaning close to kiss my stomach. I run my fingers through his hair, brushing his fringe aside right above that old scar. I want to kiss him there. I want to kiss him everywhere. He seems to have the same idea about me. 

He tugs my panties down and I step out of them. I'm not as shy about my body as I was when Ron and I first did this but I suppose that's because I'm no virginal schoolgirl anymore. It's also because I trust the person before me with my body and my life. 

His tongue... oh mother of Merlin, his tongue... it travels from my belly button down lower until he flicks it out just enough to make me writhe and moan. Oh, this isn't going to be enough. Not standing like this. 

I push him away and I sink down to my knees in front of him. He kisses me once more before reaching around me and unhooking my bra. It was my last piece of clothing and yet he is fully dressed before me. All he has lost is his tie. The scant piece of satin and lace falls onto the pile with the rest of my clothes and I catch him looking at my breasts. He doesn't look for long before he is cupping them in his hands, completely covering them. Yes, Ginny definitely won out in this department but I've always liked mine. They look nice in a jumper. 

But I want his mouth back on me. I want to feel his tongue swirl against my flesh and I want... I want him. I push him backward and after stumbling just a little, he ends up on his back on the floor. I push aside the pile of clothes and move my way up his body. He smiles and puts his glasses aside before I end up just where I want to be. His face is under me, his mouth right where I need for it to be and I can't believe I'm doing this. I have never done this like this with my own husband and now... I fall forward, my hands flat on the floor. 

His tongue darts out and hits the right spot and coherent thoughts are about to be a thing of the past. Am I really moving like this? Am I the one making that noise? I am. And I don't want to stop.

For just a moment I think I ought to turn around, unzip his trousers and return the favor but to be honest, I can't make myself do that just yet. I'm going to go toppling over the edge if he keeps doing that with his tongue. He then gently sucks and bites and his tongue is in and out of me and I want to scream from the pleasure of it. 

His hands are on my ass, holding me, and I'm thankful for that because when I come, I might just float away. It's not going to take long if he doesn't stop. I should stop him. I want to come with him inside of me but there's no way I can tell him to quit. I'll just have to come again later. Again and again and again...

It's then that I feel everything tightening up inside of me and I yearn for a release. He must know that I'm close because he applies just a little more pressure and then I'm there... I'm falling... falling. I hope he catches me before I fall too far. 

The spasms flowing through my body don't want to stop and I can still feel them when I move and fall down next to him. He wraps his arms around me, catching me, holding me, and I am safe. I am always safe with him. 

“Should we move this to the bed?” he asks and I run my hands across the buttons of his shirt.

“Should you remove some of this clothing?” I ask and he just shrugs. He puts his glasses back on so he can see what's going to happen next. 

“You do it for me.”

I straddle his hips and I can feel his hard cock through his trousers. I can see a flicker of pleasure and pain flash across his face and I'm tempted to tease him just a bit but then he reaches out to still me. 

“Harry?”

“Keep doing that and we won't need to move to the bed,” he says. He bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes and I wonder what he's thinking about in order to keep control? McGonagall in a swimsuit? 

I quickly unbutton his shirt and then he sits up, with me still on his lap. I slide the shirt off his shoulders and wrap my arms around his neck, my breasts pressing against his naked chest. I can't help but to grind my center against his hardness. 

“Hermione...” 

“Then get your trousers off so we can get in bed,” I order, standing up and off of him. He's up in a flash, too, and my fingers reach for the button and then the zipper on his trousers, sending them to the floor soon followed by his underpants. 

Okay. I must confess something. I've seen him before. Except he was me or I was him or whatever but I had to peek at his body way back when we tried to deceive Voldemort and his followers with the polyjuice potion. I couldn't resist. But I'm not going to let him know that right now and I look at his form with admiration. 

I don't get to look for long because it's just a second later and I'm in his arms and he's carrying me the few feet to the bed. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

I could kiss her all night. I could do so many things to her all night but not if she keeps doing that with her hand. 

“Hermione... I want... you have to stop that,” I say, taking her hand in mine. She doesn't move for a moment but seems to be considering something. 

“I know a charm that will make this last as long as we'd like,” she says, looking at my crotch. 

“Okay,” I say a little over eagerly. She gets off the bed quickly and starts digging around through clothes on the floor, popping up with her wand in her hand. 

“How long would you like?” she asks, crawling up the bed toward me. “And might I suggest nothing near 12 hours.”

“Why? What happens then?” 

“It gets a bit painful. Trust me.” 

“Don't you know the counter charm?” I ask before we go any further with this. 

“Yes, but it can cause, well, let's just say it causes shrinkage that might last for a few days.”

“No! Why don't we just do this the natural way,” I say, pulling her wand from her hand and putting it on the bedside table, suddenly feeling sorry for Ron for being on the receiving end of this kind of experimentation. “Where do you learn these things anyway?”

“I do a lot of reading.”

“What in the hell are you reading? And why aren't you sharing these books with Ginny?” I ask as she settles in beside me again, tucked under my arm.

“She never has any complaints. Not that I do... I just like reading. And other things,” she says, the hand I just took the wand out of now wrapping around my cock. It feels good but it's not what I want. I want to be inside of her, wrapped up in her warmth. I want to know everything about her. 

In one swift move, I move us both so she's under me, her legs coming up to wrap around my waist. I should ask her if she's sure before we take this last step but I think we are long past that. 

“Yes,” she whispers, apparently reading my mind. No one has done that for years. “Yes, Harry.”

Her hand slips between us as she guides me into her body. I close my eyes and slip in as far as I can, holding still until she is settled beneath me, urging me to move. She's only the second woman I've ever been with in my life and although it's the same it's also different. From the moaning sound that seems to come from deep inside of her to where she puts her hands to how she kisses me. It's all different. 

I listen to the beautiful little noise she utters with each upward motion I make. Her face is so serious, and she is lost in concentration. I want to make her come again and again. I want to see that look on her face like when we were on the floor. We have all night for that. 

Just one night. It's not enough. 

"Come here," I say, as I roll us both onto our sides, not breaking our bond. Her legs wrap up around me tight and my next thrust into her goes deep, causing her to gasp.

"I want you so much" she whispers as I continue to thrust into her, my fingers now circling her clit, wanting her to come with me. I want her to know how much I also want her. Not just this part of her being, but all of her. 

Our bodies slap together with each move, and we are sticky with sweat. I can feel my orgasm welling up through my entire body, starting at my toes and working upwards until it is a sharp, focused sensation of pure pleasure around my cock. I pull her against me one more time and hold her there, releasing everything into her body. 

My whole body jerks and shudders and I fight to regain control, wanting to draw this out forever. I recover my concentration again, as I swirl in and out of blackness for a few seconds. Hermione's hand is now moving between her legs, as she touches herself, knowing that I just found release. I'm not going to leave her body just yet. I want to feel her come, I want to be inside of her when she does. 

Within moments, she has a another orgasm and she cries out my name as we both ride it through. Burying her face against my neck, she says my name over and over. 

I don't ever want to pull out of her body. Maybe I should have taken her up on that charm. Maybe the side effects would have been worth the reward. She doesn't move away from me but rather seems to be settling in. 

“I love you,” she says, kissing me gently. 

“I love you, too,” I answer. The room is growing cold now that we are done and I finally slip out of her and we both maneuver around until we can get under the blankets. She is wrapped in my arms again and I want to ask her what she's thinking but I'm afraid of what she might say. I don't want to know if she's feeling as guilty as I am. 

Yet, at the same time, I want to do this again and again. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

Sunlight trickling in through the curtains wakes me and for a moment I am unable to figure out where I am. I am in bed with someone but not the usual someone. I slowly open my eyes to find him watching me, his glasses already on his nose, the expression on his face not as sure about all this as it was during the night. 

“Oh, wow.”

That's all I can say. There is nothing else I can say that will make this better or different or make it not have happened at all. They don't let me near the time turners anymore. 

“Wow.” 

“Harry...” I start, not really sure what I want to say. 

“Really, Hermione, there's no need to say anything. I just want you to know that I never do things like this. I never... I would never have done this except it was with you. I want you to know that. I don't want you to feel guilty,” he says and I let out a soft snort. 

“You aren't the only one who cheated on a spouse here,” I say, snuggling up to him. He wraps an arm around me and pulls me near and I know he's not angry at me. He might be angry with himself but he's not angry at me. 

“I cheated on my wife. I slept with my best friend's wife. Now I've not only slept with his sister but also with his wife,” Harry says. I can only sigh and move in closer to him. My hand sweeps across his chest, playing with the light smattering of hair there. 

“I slept with my husband's best friend. I guess we're even,” I say. 

We cuddle in silence and I wish I could take the guilt we are both feeling away but it's a little late for that. I can't believe I've betrayed my vows like this and so soon. It's not like I'm a tired housewife looking for some excitement. We've only been married a short time and one trip out of town and I'm in bed with someone else. 

But not just someone else. 

I'm in bed with Harry. He's right. I would have never done this with anyone else but him. I would have never done this with a stranger or any other friend. Never. But he's Harry. Just Harry. 

“I was always curious as to how it would be, you and me,” Harry says, his hand brushing my hair from my face. I must look a sight after last night. “I just didn't realize it would be this great.”

I laugh at this and prop myself up to look at him. All these years and then this is how it ends up. I don't want this to be the end of it. I know we both have to return to our homes where we belong and this must always remain a secret between us but I want more time. I want to know there might be something more. 

“Harry?”

“Hmm?” 

“What do you say we go shopping again for Christmas next year? Just you and me. Just like this. One night. Just once a year. This can only happen then,” I say and he takes a moment to ponder what I'm suggesting. 

“We can never do this at any other time. We just can't,” he says and I nod in agreement. “But once a year, at Christmastime, yes, I'd love to go shopping with you again. Next year and every year.”

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

To Be Continued...


	2. Florence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The city of Florence at Christmas the following year. Very little shopping gets done.

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

“What are we going to tell them?”

“About what?” Hermione asks, sitting up in bed, startled. Did she think all of a sudden I am ready to be truthful to our spouses? Is she crazy? 

Naked, she holds the pale sheet up to cover her breasts. Like I haven't seen them constantly since about ten minutes after we arrived in Florence the evening before. 

“About how we came back without a single present. Not one,” I say and she settles down beside me again. “Not even a postcard has been purchased.”

“We have tomorrow morning. I'm sure we'll be able to drag ourselves away from this bed long enough to buy at least some postcards. That would be a terrible Christmas present, though. Postcards,” she says, snuggling up close to me. I wrap her in my arms and don't even want to think about leaving this room. The logs in the fireplace crackle from across the room, the flames bathing the plaster walls in a soft orange glow. 

It's been a year since this happened for the first time in Paris. A year of looking at her across the room at every family gathering. A year of wishing I could grab her and run off to some dark corner and kiss her with the rest of the Weasley family sitting in the other room. A year of hot sparks flowing through my body every time I think about that night together. 

It's also been a year of hoping we did nothing to give us away. That no one would suspect a thing so we could do it again year after year. A year of working with her husband daily and feeling like a complete bastard. And a year of looking at Ginny and her looking back at me with trust and love in her eyes and feeling like bloody hell. That should have been enough to keep me from doing this ever again but here we are. We didn't even bother to go to a single shop before we went to the villa. 

“How would you feel about a postcard for Christmas?” I ask. 

“If we were flying home, we could be like the Muggles and buy gifts at the airport,” she says. “My parent always got me something from the airport when they went on a holiday without me. And my mum always brought home lots of magazines.” 

After trying our hand at Muggle travel last year, this year we decided to just skip that and take a more wizardly – and faster – route. Thinking about what they had in any of the tiny stores we passed on our way to the villa Hermione had booked for us, I don't feel optimistic that we will find anything tomorrow. 

“So you'd prefer some magazines rather than a postcard?” 

“We'll have time in the morning. I promise. I'm sure you'll also want to find a broom to add to your collection. A sleek Italian one would certainly be interesting,” Hermione says, rolling over and looking at me with a smirk. 

She's not the only one who thinks my ever-growing broomstick collection is something to joke about. I hear it from Ginny all the time, particularly after I took over a whole room in the house for them. I can't help it I like to collect Quidditch memorabilia, too. I need my own room for that even though I suspect it might one day become a nursery. Then I'll just have to keep adding on more rooms. It will eventually look like The Burrow. Well, maybe a little more organized than that. 

“We should have at least had some food before we ran off here,” I say as my stomach rumbles. “Do you have anything in your bag that we could share? Some eggs and toast? A tin of beans?”

“I don't make a habit of carrying a meal in my bag, Harry. Considering we were coming to Italy, I assumed we'd be going out to eat. I even selected a few restaurants but instead, you rushed us here,” she says, tossing the sheet aside and walking across the room to her handbag. Her ability to cast an Undetectable Extension Charm still comes in useful, especially when it comes to packing all the books she likes to bring with her everywhere. 

“I didn't hear you complaining while I was doing that rushing,” I say, watching her reach into her bag and fumble around in its depths. She pulls out something that looks a little crushed and offers it to me. Pumpkin pasties wrapped in cellophane. I'm so hungry right now I don't care what kind of shape they are in. “I'm sure we could find somewhere that is still open and serving food at this hour if you really want to get dressed and leave.”

“No, I'm fine,” she says, closing her bag and climbing back in bed with me. “I don't want to leave this room now. Just share some of that with me.”

I break off a piece of crumbling dessert and feed it to her, brushing my fingertips against her soft lips. 

“We could send them an owl and tell them that we have to stay an extra day. Something about a gift that needs extra time,” I say, slipping another piece of pasty into her mouth. She swallows it and gives my idea a little thought. 

“As much as I would love to stay here for another day, or even maybe another week, Ron and I have plans for tomorrow evening. I have to be home,” she says. Hermione takes one of the pasties from my hand, breaks off a corner and now feeds me. 

The mention of Ron's name while we're in bed together and while she's supposed to be mine, and that they have plans so soon after we go our separate ways, brings about a funny sensation in the pit of my stomach. It's a mixture of jealousy and regret; something that makes me want tell her we shouldn't do this again yet at the same time, it makes me wish she could be mine forever. I don't want to give her back to him. I want everything. 

I swallow not only the last bite of crumpled pasty but also the taste of envy rising in my throat. We know that this is it and can't be anything more. Too many people would be hurt. One night. That was the deal.

It just doesn't seem to be enough now. 

Thankfully the villa had left a complimentary bottle of wine in our room. I pour more of the sweet red liquid into my glass and drink it down quickly and then pour another. Hermione takes the glass from me before I can down that one too and she takes a sip. 

“I'm sorry,” she says, sensing the sudden change in my demeanor. “Next year, maybe we'll make it a longer trip.”

“I'm afraid that if we make it too long, I won't be able to let you go back to him afterward,” I say, taking the wine glass back and setting it on the bedside table. 

“I feel the same way... about your wife,” she says, brushing the crumbs off of the sheets and blankets. 

“So, what do we do?” I ask, knowing there are no easy answers. We got ourselves into this mess and there is no way to get out of it without breaking a few hearts. 

“We enjoy the rest of the night. We get up in the morning, go shopping and get something real to eat. Then we go home as planned and wait for next year,” Hermione says, making it all sound so easy. Before I can agree with her plans, she pulls me into a kiss. Her tongue sweeps past my lips and the kiss tastes of stale pumpkin filling and tart red wine. 

But mostly, it tastes of her. And that is enough to make me come back just once a year for the rest of my life. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

“Bloody hell! What time is it?” I ask, shoving Harry's leg off of me as I suddenly realize it's far too bright in our room to be 7 a.m. I set the alarm for that time but obviously it never went off. Damn Muggle clock. I'd stay in a hotel in the wizarding part of town but I'm always afraid someone will recognize Harry so we have to suffer with stupid Muggle appliances. I will bring my own time keeper next time. One that never fails. 

“I dunno... early...” he mumbles, still half asleep but I know it's not early. 

“Harry, get up! It's 11 a.m.! We are supposed to be ready to go home in two hours! What are we going to do?” I get up off the bed, pulling the sheet with me to wrap around my body and I quickly try to figure out what to do next. 

“I'd say pack but we never unpacked. Except for those pasties,” he jokes and I pick up a pillow and smack him with it. 

“I meant about the shopping. We aren't supposed to be here in bed together. We're supposed to be shopping! Ginny is going to be rather suspicious if you don't at least show up with some broom. And what are we going to give everybody. Oh, Harry, wake up already!” I say, pulling all the blankets off and leaving him naked on the bed. 

“Postcards,” he mumbles, grabbing for the warm blankets. The fire we had burning in the hearth has died down and the room is rather chilly now. We have to get up anyway. 

He gives up on the blankets once I pull them all the way off the bed, tossing them on the floor just out of reach. With a heavy sigh, he stands up from the bed and comes over to me, pulling me into his arms. 

“Harry...”

“It will be okay. We'll find something and get back at the scheduled time,” he says as he starts kissing my neck. We're never going to get out of here at this pace. 

“Oh, stop it! You need to shower. You smell... like me,” I say, trying to push him away. I doesn't work. He pulls me closer and starts with my neck again. 

“And you smell like me. We can shower together.”

“That's not going to help matters any,” I say, feeling him grow hard against me and I no longer know where I end and he begins. “Not going to help....”

Damn. He's got me. He always gets me. We fumble toward the bathroom, unable to let go of one another as we both step across the cold marble floor. He manages to get the water running and we make it into the large shower stall without tripping the other up too much. 

“I want to do so many things to you,” he says, lathering my body with the bar of fragrant soap. “I want to do things you've never done had done to you before.”

“Harry, I've been married for a while now...”

“There must be something.”

“Nothing we have time to do now!” I say, taking the soap from him and lathering up my hands. “Next time. Next year. I promise. I'll think of something fantastic we can share. I'll find a spell. Look up a charm. Just for us.”

“Promise?” he says. He is hard and grows even harder as I put the soap aside and stroke the length of his cock. 

“I promise.” I want him. I don't need anything special. I don't need anything at all but him because I know I won't get it again for a year. 

He turns me around so fast that my hands fly to the marble wall, steadying myself. We have no time. I don't care. I don't care about anything else but the feel of him as he slides into my body, filling me. I don't care about gifts or family or what we are somewhere else. 

There is nothing more than this. 

At least for this moment. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

To Be Continued...


	3. New York City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several years later in New York City. Live are changing fast.

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It's a tradition now, this shopping trip of ours. And we do go shopping. After that second year, there would be no other way we'd be able to explain it if we didn't come back with more than a few presents. We missed a year here and there due to work or illness and I didn't have the heart to leave last year, not with the baby due so soon after Christmas. But here I am again, Hermione by my side as she does some shopping in a bookstore in the wizarding part of New York City. 

“You want to go buy that broom, don't you,” she asks, barely visible behind the pile of books in her arms. I take a few of them so I can see her face. 

“I don't know. You know American brooms. All power and flash. They lack any subtlety, any finesse. They are just big and obnoxious,” I answer, looking at the titles she has selected. I have no clue when she has the time to read all of this but then again, I never have had a clue how Hermione does it all. Maybe she's secretly using a Time Turner again. Maybe this weekend could keep happening over and over. 

“You still want it.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, I do,” I say with a devious smile. 

“We are talking about a broomstick, aren't we?”

“Of course we are. Besides, now that I have thought about it, I really want to get James that little broomstick. I think it will make a wonderful first Christmas present, don't you?”

“I think you'll use any excuse to get back to that store, including your son.”

“That's not true! I wouldn't use him as an excuse. Well, not usually but I did promise to come back with a gift for him. Not that he isn't going to get tons and tons of presents from everyone but I want to get him something special,” I say, smiling while thinking about my son. 

My son. That is what makes this Christmastime so different from any I've ever celebrated before. It's so different with him to think about and for a moment I'm ashamed about the other reason I'm on the trip. The smile leaves my face as I look into Hermione's eyes. I love her. It's ridiculous and I know it but I do and I have for years. I should go back to my home, to my wife and child, but she holds me here. I can't help it. 

Not even that perfect baby boy at home can keep me from what I am. And Hermione is part of what I am. 

“Then I say we go buy back and get it for him. I wouldn't want to deprive my nephew of finding that on his pile of presents on Christmas morning. Let me just purchase these few books and I'll be done here,” she says, adding two more books to the ones in her arms. 

“A few books?” I ask, glad to see she has her usual traveling handbag with her. 

“I can't help myself,” she says, looking happily at her finds. “There is nothing that pleases me more than a good book.”

“Nothing?”

“Well, almost nothing.”

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

“Ice skating?” I question. He has a handful of tourist brochures, one featuring a picture of a couple figure skating at an ice rink, a Christmas tree standing tall in the background. 

“You don't want to?” He puts down the brochures and looks puzzled. Usually we do some shopping, have a nice dinner and then lock ourselves away from the rest of the world for as long as we can.

“Ice skating there seems like something people would do on a date. Something tourists would do when they are young and in love. When they are lovers,” I say. The room falls silent and I pick up one of my books I purchased early and thumb through it. 

“What are we, Hermione?” Harry asks. I ignore him for as long as possible before he pulls the book from my hands and sets it down. He takes my now empty hands into his and pulls me gently to him. I don't know why I just don't agree to go skating. Why I'm even questioning that he wants to do something outside of our room? Actually, I do know. I just haven't told him yet. Haven't told him why I don't feel like wandering around town like we are a young couple who just fell in love. “What are we?”

“I'm pregnant.” 

He says nothing for the longest time. He doesn't let me go but he doesn't say anything, either. “We were going to tell everyone on Christmas. I've only known for a few days and Ron thought it would make a nice surprise.”

“Congratulations,” he says, finally releasing me. He walks to the other side of the hotel room and sits in the hard chair by the table covered with colorful brochures on what to see around town. He gathered them up from the hotel lobby and has been looking through them for a while. 

“I should have told you before we left but I wanted to spend time with you. I have been waiting for this trip for so long,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed. It's the truth. I spend half of the year trying to forget about what we have done and the other half counting down the days until we can go again. Since we skipped last year because of James, I was looking forward to this even more. 

“Do you think this changes anything? Do you think it changes the way I feel about you or what I want to do to you?” he asks. 

I look down at my feet and shrug. I'm not used to this pregnancy thing. I haven't suffered from any of the symptoms I know Ginny had when she was first pregnant. No morning sickness, anyway. I was just late and that's when I knew. We weren't trying but we weren't doing anything to avoid it either. I just didn't think it would happen so fast after removing all the charms I had placed to prevent it. 

“I think it changes everything,” I finally say, looking him in the eyes. I want him so much but I feel worse than ever for wanting him. I should be happy with what I have. Ron, the house, a career that is going places and a now a baby on the way. “The same way James changed everything for you. What other reason did you have for not coming away with me last Christmas?”

“I was worried that Ginny would have the baby while I was with you and I'd have to live with that the rest of my life. I have enough baggage already,” Harry says.

“I'm sorry that I'm baggage,” I say, standing up off of the bed too quickly and almost losing my footing. I head toward the door, not sure where I'm going once I get on the other side. We haven't bothered with separate rooms in a long time. I didn't plan on telling him my news so I didn't think it would come to this. 

“Don't go. Hermione, please,” he pleads, catching me before I can even get to the door. His hands are on my shoulders and I stop. I have no where to go anyway. No where but back home. “Let's just assume that both of us, no matter how much we want to be here, are going to feel some guilt. You aren't baggage. You never will be. I just want more than I can have.”

I'm leaning back into him, his arms wrapping around me, his hands across my still-flat stomach. 

“I have a feeling this might be the last year we can do this for a while,” I say, thinking of my due date. It's Harry's birthday. I don't tell him this. It's my first baby so it will probably not be born on time or early and will be born in August. Next Christmas, Ron and I will have a baby in the house. 

“Ginny will probably want another one now once she finds out. They can grow up together and start Hogwarts at the same time,” Harry says softly. 

“She tried to talk me into it when she found out she was pregnant with James. I wasn't ready. I'm not sure I'm ready now,” I say. His fingers splay across my abdomen and I feel as if I'm sinking into him body. 

“You'll be a great mum. Ron will be a great dad. And we all know I'm the best uncle in the world already but this one will be special because it's the baby of some of the best people I know,” Harry says, swaying with me still in his arms. “My best friend. My lover.”

I turn around in his arms and snuggle closer. I am confused about everything I'm feeling. I shouldn't be confused. This thing with Harry has been there for years but as our real lives change, I'm not always sure about this life. I knew someday there would be babies and more obligations and the stress that a growing family brings. I am not oblivious to the fact that my whole world is going to change. I just hope it never changes so much that I can't have this escape. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

“That hurts a little,” she says with a sigh, moving slightly away from my touch. “Everything feels different.”

“That can happen,” I say, moving my fingertips away from her breasts and to her face instead. I trace the line of her jaw, push the hair away from her face, and kiss her. She gives me a soft kiss in return and rests her head back on her pillow. “Wait until after the baby is born. Then you'll experience different.”

She sighs again. “Sometimes I wish this baby was yours.” 

“You don't mean that. You and Ron...”

“I know. But that doesn't mean I don't think about it. We could have been...”

“But we aren't. This is what we have, Hermione. I have loved you for years but this is how things are. You love Ron and you know it. I love Ginny. We love our real lives when we're back in them,” I say. I know what she's talking about. I have felt all those things, too. There are nights where I wish I could just leave my house and run to her. There are times when we are together as a family and I catch myself watching her, wanting to touch her so badly that I have to leave the room for fear of someone noticing that I can't stop staring at her. Yet, there are other times when I love my life so much that I think I might die from the guilt of this. 

“I know. I'm just a little emotional. I can't help it,” she says. “I do love being with you. A lot. I love these trips and our time together. And if you want to go ice skating tomorrow, that is what we will do. It will be like a date.”

“We'll see. Maybe you and I will just spend the entire day in this room seeing as though we got all of our shopping done.”

“As long as I can take a nap, I don't care what we do. I'm so tired,” she says, yawning and snuggling in next to me. 

“We don't have to do anything, Hermione. If you don't want to. I mean, I want to. I want you. Still. But if you're uncomfortable...”

I don't get to finish my sentence before she silences me with a quick kiss before she settles back into my arms again. 

“Don't be daft. I want to do everything with you. I'm just a little tired. Was Ginny this tired when she was pregnant?” she asks. 

“I guess so. In between the vomiting, I recall her taking lots of naps,” I answer, pulling her hair away from her face and kissing her on the temple. These conversations would be considered bizarre by most people having an affair, but between us, anything goes now. We all grew up together. We all could have died together. This is just one more thing. 

“I found a new potion that should take care of the nausea if it should, um, arise. So far, so good. I just don't want you to feel odd. Sleeping with another man's wife who happens to be carrying his child. That is odd, you must admit,” she says and I have to laugh at the thought. 

“It certainly is unique. Or maybe it isn't. Probably goes on all the time. Who knows what these Muggles do,” I say, making her laugh. Then her stomach growls in hunger. 

“Sorry. Eating for two now,” she says. I heard Ginny say that for months and I wondered how she could eat so much and still look so slim. Well, from behind anyway. 

“The second person you are eating for is no larger than a glumbumble right now but if you'd like to go to dinner, I'm fine with that,” I say and she's off the bed before I can finish my sentence.

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

“I'm tired of talking about this weekend,” I say, swirling some of the best pasta I've ever had around on my fork. Harry sips his wine and nods. I have only ice water in front of me. No drinking on this trip. Good thing we didn't pick France again. “I'm tired of talking about feelings and things that might have been. The rest of the weekend, we live just for the present. For us.”

“Sounds good to me,” he says, making it sound easy. “I love my wife. I even love your husband. But right this moment, I love you. I love being with you.”

“Tomorrow, if we feel like getting up and leaving the room, we will go ice skating. We will do some window shopping. I'd love to see more Christmas windows,” I say, feeling a little more awake than I did before. “Perhaps we can even go see movie tonight. I haven't seen a movie in years.”

“I wouldn't even know what the Muggles are watching now but if you want to spend your time in the cinema, that's fine with me. We can sit in the dark and make out like kids,” Harry says with a smile. He picks at his food a little longer before pushing his plate away. 

“Are you done with that?” I ask, eyeballing the vegetables he left behind. He looks at me and raises an eyebrow. “It's not like I'm planning on eating a whole mince pie. I just wanted to know if you are done with your broccoli.”

“Have at it,” he says, pushing his plate closer to me. He picks up his wine glass and swirls around the pale liquid as I try to move his food from his plate to mine. I can't help it. I'm hungry. 

“I still can't believe that next year at this time, I will be a mother,” I say with a nervous giggle, feeling a bit of anxiety rising in my chest. “There aren't enough books in the world to prepare me for this.”

“Some things just have to be learned without the help of a book,” he says, putting down his glass and staring at me with eyes filled with knowledge about something I can't even imagine yet. 

I can imagine the sleepless nights since I've had plenty of those in my past. I can even imagine the loss of freedom that will happen. I just can't imagine the moment I get to hold my child for the first time but the thought makes me giddy with anticipation. And even though, as Harry already pointed out, he or she is as small as a glumbumble at the moment, I already can't imagine loving anyone more. Not the man waiting at home for me. Not even the man sitting across from me. 

“I understand it now,” I say, and he looks at me curiously. “I understand why she was so willing to die for you. I would do anything... the baby isn't even here yet and I would do anything.”

He looks away for just a moment and then looks back. 

“I hope our world never comes to that again. I hope our children grow up never having to go through the things we had to, Hermione. No child should have to do that,” he says, his voice so soft I can barely hear him through the din of the restaurant. “No child should have to die like...”

“With you and Ron as aurors, our children won't have to,” I interrupt, reaching across the table and taking his hand in mine. I don't want to think about it. I don't want him to start thinking about it because I know he'll go to some dark place in his head and it has taken him years to not go there every single day. I don't have to be his wife to know this. We even avoided places in this city because even though it was Muggles terrorizing other Muggles, I didn't want him to slip into that mindset. 

His fingers stroke mine ever so gently and all thoughts of food and children and those dark days from our youth pass from my thoughts. 

“Are you ready to go back to the hotel?” he asks, his eyes hungry for life. For me. For anything but having to remember. 

“Yes. Oh, yes.”

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

She moves over me, her features muted by the darkness yet I know her so well I don't need the lamp turned on to know exactly what her face looks like. I know her. Everything about her. How she feels inside and out. How she sounds. How she likes to be touched. 

Slowly. Slowly falling and rising and slowly falling again. My body fits in hers so perfectly that there is no way this wasn't meant to be. No matter how wrong it is, it is still right. I hold her, careful not to hurt her. I don't want to ever hurt her. 

“It's okay,” she whispers as she begins to move a little faster, a little harder. “I'm not going to break.”

“Nothing could ever break you, Hermione,” I say, moving us so I'm over her now, her legs wrapped high around my waist. “Nothing could ever break us.”

“Promise me that nothing will ever change this. Nothing...”

“Nothing,” I whisper into her ear. 

I slip in and out of her body and nothing else matters right now but the two of us. Not family or a life across the ocean. Nothing. 

Everything moves so slowly and I try to memorize every move she makes, the feel of her smooth skin sliding against mine. I try to memorize the tiny, soft sound that escapes from her throat when I move just right. I try to memorize the look on her face as I reach between us and touch her in just the right spot. And most importantly, I can't ever let myself forget the look on her face as she comes, the perfect look on her fact that will get me through to the next time we can be together. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

To Be Continued...


	4. Hong Kong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After several years, they visit Hong Kong. Darker times are back in many worlds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with miscarriage and how the darker side of magic is still in the world.

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

Since we checked into our hotel room, Harry has spent most of the time staring out the window, watching the traffic move far below. Hong Kong is so far from home. So far and so crowded. I don't know why Harry picked here. He suggested Sydney first so I know he's trying to get as far from home as possible. I just don't know why. 

“Should we watch the lights this evening?” I ask and he merely shrugs. I look further through the Muggle guide book I picked up before we left. We'll have to do some shopping tomorrow. For a few years now, we have done that as soon as we arrived at our destination. Not this time. Harry couldn't wait to get to the hotel room but not for what we usually do. 

Instead, he just stares out of the window, arms crossed over his chest as he watches for... I don't know. 

All I know is he must have paid a small fortune for this room overlooking the harbour. There's a huge terrace with a jacuzzi and if I'm not mistaken, a canopy bed. I guess they aren't expecting it to rain. Then there is the huge bath and shower. And the lovely bed in the room. Harry doesn't seem interested in any of it. Or me, for that matter. 

I sit on an overstuffed chair, watching him as he continues to watch out the window. I know things have been bad at the ministry. I know what Ron has told me. I know what the two of them went through and Ron never looked like this. But Ron is not Harry. Ron never carried the same burdens as Harry, talking often about leaving it all behind for good and helping at the shop full time. 

Or maybe it is because Harry is head of the Auror department at the Ministry. Maybe he knows things Ron does not. 

Ron. I wonder how he's doing with both Rose and Hugo without his mother's help. She was too busy helping out Ginny with the three little Potters. I'm sure he'll end up there yet over the weekend, looking for a meal. That's just Ron. 

Meanwhile, I feel a twinge of guilt. Not over being with Harry but over the fact that I'm so far away from my children with someone who doesn't seem to be in the mood to even speak to me. Maybe I'll take a bath. Maybe I'll go sleep on the bed out on the terrace and see if he notices I'm gone. 

With a heavy sigh, I get out of my chair, put my bag on the luggage rack and pull out the robe I bought just for this trip. I strip out of my clothes and pull the silken garment on. He still hasn't moved. He is still staring at the traffic. For the first time in years, Muggle cars going by are more interesting than I am. 

He can be that way. But I traveled all this way and I'm at least going to enjoy what the city has to offer. Ron and I go on holiday with the kids over the summer but that's never the same. It always involves  
schedules and trying to find something the kids will enjoy and oftentimes ends up with us camping. Certainly not in a hotel like this. We are doing well financially but we will never be doing Harry Potter well. And two young kids in this room? I wouldn't dream of it. 

I stand behind him and he still doesn't move. “You want anything? Need anything?” He shrugs after each question. “Need me to just leave you alone? I could have stayed home, you know.” 

He says nothing. I open the sliding glass doors and walk out to the balcony. He doesn't follow. Doesn't move. I stand by the railing, watching the harbour and the city stretched out before me. And I sigh. 

It's all beautiful. The hotel. The city lights. All of it. But I didn't come here for this. Didn't travel so far to look at lights. I came here for Harry and he doesn't even seem to care that I'm alive at the moment. I'm going to put an end to this. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

She wraps her silk-covered arms around me, holding me tight. I feel her cheek settle near my shoulder and she lets out a soft sigh. It wasn't fair of me to drag her this far and then ignore her. It wasn't fair of me to take her away from her family at this time of year. 

But then the world just isn't always fair. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks. I shrug, hoping that is enough to escape any other questions. But this is Hermione and a simple shrug isn't going to get me off the hook. She maneuvers around me and before I know it she's before me, in my arms, her back against the glass I've been staring out. I can't avoid her. I shouldn't want to. “All these years, Harry. All these years and you should know you can tell me anything.”

“Hmmppf.” 

“It's not like Ron hasn't told me some of it,” she says. I know what Ron knows. I know what Ron saw. It wasn't everything. It wasn't even the half of it. 

“Hmmppf.”

She turns around in my arms, twisting once again. Now we are both staring at the glass. She's staring at me, at my reflection, and I'm trying to stare past her. She won't give up. Won't just watch the light show that's about to begin. Not Hermione. 

“Please, Harry. You are worrying me,” she pleads and I close my eyes. I can't keep them closed for long, though. If I do, I start to see things... things I don't want to ever see again. 

“I didn't think I'd ever have to face such evil again.” Our eyes meet in reflection and she just nods. “I didn't think it could come back like that.”

“There will always be evil in the world, Harry. Our world. The Muggle world. It will always be there,” she says, her voice so soft it's as if she's soothing an injured child. Perhaps that is exactly what I'm acting like. “You and Ron and the others, you all make sure our children will never have to face what we did.”

“It was close.”

“Close doesn't count.”

She'll never know how close. I can't share that with her. Ron doesn't even know. Some at the Ministry do but they aren't willing to talk about it yet, either. This new horror, unrelated to the last great horror, is something we aren't willing to share just yet. 

So like the Ministry to cover it up. 

“Hermione, I shouldn't have... we should have stayed home. I'm so sorry. I'm not good company,” I apologize. Now she shrugs. 

“You being good company isn't necessarily part of the deal. I'll take you in whatever mood you're in. I love you, Harry,” she says, and I hold her tighter. We rock together, her arms on mine. “We don't have to do anything. Just stand here together, go to bed, get up, go shopping. Skip the shopping. I don't care. I expect nothing of you.”

Based on the fact that I can tell she is naked under her robe, I know that is a lie but I appreciate her saying it anyway. “What about the herbs you said you needed?”

“Yes, I can only find them in the best Asian markets but...”

“We will go in the morning. I hear there is an amazing Quidditch shop downtown,” I say. I really have no clue what kind of wizarding stores they have here. I don't really care. I'm not sure what I care about right now.

That's a lie. I know what I care about. I know what I love. I know what I'm afraid of losing forever. 

“Whatever.” She pushes back against me and my mind might be lost in some dark place but my body is right here with her. I want her. I want to have her right up against this cold glass. I want her to scream my name. I want to feel something other than this deep, black sorrow. 

I pull her robe off of her shoulders and it pools to the floor, leaving her naked before me. Naked between me and the glass and the city I don't care about ever seeing. 

My hand slinks between her thighs and she moans as I touch her. We don't stop watching each other in the glass and I know now oh so well what pleases her. I look at my reflection for just a brief second and my face is so hard, so lost. So far gone. 

Maybe she can't even save me this time. 

I stroke her harder and her hands fly up to the glass, pressed so close she could melt right into the pane. She gasps when I drop my trousers and pants around my ankles and quickly take her from behind. Am I going too fast? Do I care? I don't know. 

She gasps, pushing back hard against me, shoving off of the glass. The city lights up before us but I'm not sure she notices. The lights out there and lights flashing through my head... I can't tell one from the other. I can't tell where I begin and where she ends and maybe that will save me. 

I touch her again, sliding in and out and circling her clit so hard she moans something I don't even understand. And then she says my name. Cries it as if she's saying a prayer. 

Or a curse. 

And then she falls hard against the glass as I come inside of her, screaming her name, too. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

“Tell me.”

I whisper it into the night, hoping for an answer. I know he's awake. His breathing hasn't changed since we crawled into bed together hours ago. We spent the day shopping, not talking about last night and the things we did to each other. We ate out at the best restaurant in the city. He found a broomstick with beautiful jade designs running down the handle and arranged to have it shipped to his home. I found the perfect gift for Ron and a doll for Rose's collection. And now we are here. 

“I can't.”

“Harry, what could be worse than what Voldemort did to your family... our family? To our friends? Something is worse than that?” I ask. I prop myself up on an elbow, my fingertip tracing a pattern on his chest. 

“Children. Why is it always children?” 

“I don't know.”

“It was so much easier when we were the children but now that we have our own... I mean, you have yours. I have mine. It was a horrible evil, Hermione. Dark. Powerful. The children didn't know what they were doing,” he says softly into the night. 

“You were a victim once, too, Harry. You understand what they went through better than most,” I say with a sigh. I was afraid of this, all those years ago, when Harry and Ron announced they wanted to be Aurors. I was afraid that something would trigger everything again. 

Though I'm not sure Harry ever got over it all in the first place. He just moved forward with life. Married Ginny. Went to work. Lived his life. His normal life.

Except for running away with me once a year. That's not so normal. 

“And in the middle of it all, Ginny... did Ron tell you? Did he even know?” Harry asks tentatively. 

“Tell me what?”

“I don't even know what my own wife tells people these days. That's how out of it I've been,” Harry says. I snuggle up next to him and he wraps me in his arms. “Ginny was pregnant. She lost the baby while I was away.”

A chill washes through my body and I feel my mouth go dry. I didn't know. If Ron knew, he didn't tell me. 

“I'm sorry,” is all I can say. What else is there to say?

“And the worst part is... the most horrible part of it was, with what I was going through, I wasn't sure we should have more anyway right now. And now we can't,” he says and the tears start to form in my eyes. I can't stop them and I sniffle before I can help it. 

I didn't know they were trying for a fourth. This isn't something we discuss when the family is all together. Ginny and Harry... I could see them with a large family just like Molly and Arthur. Soon his oldest will be going off to Hogwarts. Soon my kids will, too. Ron and I talked about having another but how could I do that now? How could I do that to him? To her? 

“What did the healers say?” I ask, my voice sounding so hollow now that the conversation has taken this turn. He has kept this inside this whole time. He could have told me. We didn't even need to take this trip. 

“It was a boy. Another boy.”

“Why didn't Ginny tell me,” I ask, a sudden fear bubbling up inside that she knows about this. That is the only reason I can imagine she wouldn't come to me. 

“I imagine she'll tell you when she's ready.” 

“Why didn't you tell me before now?” I ask, feeling him shrug his answer. “Harry, why not?”

“Because you'd think it was a problem you could fix and this time you can't.”

No, I can't. All I can do is hold onto him in this bed until it's time for us to go home. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

To Be Continued...


	5. The Caribbean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years have passed and life is slowing down.

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

“How many years has it been, Harry,” she asks from where she is dressing across the room. I look up from the local Muggle paper as she pulls on a beach cover-up and large floppy sunhat. I don't know why she needs that cover-up. We are the only two people at this particular beach. 

“Years since what?” I ask. “Since we met? Since everything happened at Hogwarts? Since you seduced me?” 

“I did not! But yes, since then,” she says. She puts a foot up on the edge of the bed and rubs some homemade tincture onto her leg that will allow her to tan just enough that it will look like we actually left the room and got outside into the ever-present sunshine. 

This holiday has been decadent. The warm weather. The sun. The cottage where we can hear the ocean all night. The bed we hardly ever leave. We haven't been able to get away for years, not with the kids coming home from Hogwarts for Christmas, but this year we somehow managed it. Ron and Ginny laughed about us still thinking we needed to go shopping somewhere different for them but Hermione insisted that Ron has too many orange Quidditch jerseys and I probably have been going into withdrawal without a new, exotic broom from somewhere. 

“I don't know. This started before James was born,” I answer, trying to calculate the numbers in my head. Surely she already knows the answer. She always does. I look over my paper and continue to watch her rub her legs. “Are you really going out to the beach?”

“Yes, I am. But how many years?”

“Forever, Hermione.”

“You know, you could have had me in that tent. When Ron was gone. In the Forest of Dean.” she says. It's almost an aside. Like she's testing if I'm listening. Now I fold up my section of paper I was reading and discard it onto the pile with the rest of the pages. I watch her, still rubbing her leg, making sure the color will come out even and natural. 

“Now's a fine time to tell me,” I joke. I don't know whether to believe her or not. Or what difference it would make now anyway. I remember her crying a lot and the two of us being so tired and long nights of watching and waiting. 

She stops messing around with her leg. Putting the cap on the tincture, she continues, “I would have. I thought some nights, when you would come into the tent for a little warmth, I thought... I wanted you.”

“You wanted Ron but I was there. If it had been different, we wouldn't be here right now. We would have gotten it out of our systems and it would have been over when Ron came back. It would have been one night of solace in the middle of a nightmare and that's all. None of this would have happened, all of this over the years,” I tell her and she shrugs. 

“One moment of solace with you or all of these years,” she says wistfully. “I think I would want both.” 

“I've got to tell you, Hermione, my first time wasn't all that wonderful so I'd stick with what we have,” I say, remembering fumbling around with Ginny in a dark and musty bedroom at her parents' house, hoping no one would catch us. I think it took two minutes from extinguishing the lights until it was over. Two wonderful minutes but two minutes nonetheless. 

“I suppose you're right. I still think about it. What if...”

“I know what you mean,” I say, interrupting her. “But all of life is a what if, Hermione.”

“No sense in dwelling on the past.” She turns to a mirror and adjusts her sunhat. I have no clue what has gotten into her. No clue what brought this up suddenly. 

“I'm not saying I would have said no... you know. Back in that tent. On some of those cold nights, I would have said yes,” I tell her and she turns to face me. She is more beautiful now than she was then. Beautiful in a grown-up way. No longer a girl. “I would have said yes in a heartbeat.”

“So say yes to coming out to the beach with me,” she says, a sly smile. “I'll make it worth your while.”

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

“Remember all those years ago when you wanted to do something I'd never done before?” I ask, letting the crystal blue water pull me away from him before I paddle back. 

“There's something left?” Harry asks. He's right. Over the years, we've done most everything. And everywhere. 

Everywhere but here in the warm waters of the Caribbean. 

“There is something. One thing,” I say, wrapping myself around him in the warm water. “We really should have thought of this years ago.”

“We did,” he says with a grin, his hands wrapping around my waist as he pulls me closer. 

“That's not what I meant! I mean the tropics. The beach. The water,” I say, looking at the shore a few meters away. He paid for a private cottage on the shore so no one would see us or recognize him. I still don't have the nerve to go from the door to the water without my swimsuit on but there's no one else sunbathing anywhere near the shore. Besides that, I better return home with tan lines or there will be too many questions to answer. 

So no one else is watching us as I move my body up and down his, rocking with the motion of the gentle waves. Too bad. Maybe this would be more fun with a bit of an audience. 

I know he's been on many vacations with his family, as I have with mine. Ron and I have never been here, though. All around Europe and Australia but not here. I don't think Harry has brought his family here, either. With Ginny's various careers they have traveled wherever Quidditch takes them but probably not here. This place can be ours. We can't have a house together but we can have this. 

“Take off your bottoms,” he says and I comply, tucking them into the top of my swimsuit and hoping they don't wash away in the current. He tugs his swim shorts down and now we're touching and every bit of me tingles. The waves rock us closer together and he slips into me with ease. Like he belongs in no other place. 

The hot sun beats down on my shoulders and the water pulls me away from him and then back again, over and over, and all the sensations make everything start to swirl. This is crazy. It has always been so crazy with him. And I'd want it no other way. 

He pulls me close to him, fighting the waves that want to coax me away. I wrap my legs around him and he thrusts into me over and over and I gasp with the pleasure of it all. Arms wrapped around his neck, I kiss him, biting at his salty lips, my tongue thrusting into his mouth as he thrusts into me. And then I can't feel anything else as the sun burns even brighter and the explodes. Another wave pushes our bodies and that's it. We both go over the edge together. Falling. Falling. Drowning in each other. 

“That was new,” he finally manages to say once words come back to both of us. 

“Yes, it was. New and wonderful,” I say, releasing my hold from around his neck. I brush the wet hair off of his forehead and kiss him again. He doesn't slip out of me and I don't want to break this bond until we have to. I could stay like this forever, holding onto him. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

We sit naked on the beach, Hermione resting between my legs, leaning against my chest. The sun is setting and the sky is awash with shades of orange and blue and pink. Her hair, bleached out from the sun and the seawater, flutters in the breeze, tickling my nose. After all these years, there's still no way to control it. Not even with magic. 

“I really don't want to ever go back,” she says, sighing with content. 

It has been particularly cold in London this winter and the idea of leaving this place for home isn't very appealing. It is made less appealing by the thought we can't be alone together like this for another year. Maybe more. We never know what might happen that could cause us to cancel our plans. 

“I don't want to go home, either. But then we get there and everything falls into its usual place and Christmas with the kids happens and life goes on and these few days with you seem so far away,” I say, brushing some sand off of her bronzed shoulder. 

“What if we told them? What if...”

“We swore we'd never do that, Hermione,” I say, wondering why she's thinking about this now. “What's going on? Is something wrong between you and Ron?” 

She sighs and doesn't answer right away. She just snuggles closer to me and I wait. She'll tell me when she's ready. 

“The kids are older. Life is just... I don't know. Not what I imagined. I guess everyone this age feels this way but sometimes I think we have been kidding ourselves all these years. Making it work because we were too scared of hurting everyone but sacrificing what we really wanted,” she says. I consider what she's saying for a long time, my thoughts jumbled and confused. 

“Sometimes we do what we have to because it's best for the most people. There is no way to get those years back, Hermione. And no way to make this go away or to pretend it didn't happen. I don't think I could leave her,” I say. She stiffens in my arms and I'm certain she's going to get up and walk away. “I don't think you could leave him, either. It's been too long. Too many shared experiences. Our lives are entwined with others.” 

“Yet, I'm hopelessly tangled up with you,” she says, relaxing again. “I'm afraid we'll get to the end and regret all our decisions. Regret the fact that we just didn't have enough courage to do what is right.” 

“If we did what was right, you and I wouldn't be here at all. Paris would have never happened. Every trip after that would have never happened. But I can't imagine my life without those days spent with you. I can't. I don't want to,” I say, holding her closer. It's not fair but life has never been fair. It's not fair and it's not right and I have no excuse for the things I have done. All the reasons will never be enough to justify any of it. That's why they can't ever find out. 

“And tomorrow we will leave and go back there and smile and pretend and see each on Christmas and no one will suspect a thing. No one will know even though I'll spend the day wishing I could grab you and fuck you like there's no tomorrow on that damned kitchen table.”

“Hermione!”

Without another word, she turns around in my lap, straddling me just perfectly. Like we belong together and with no one else. 

“I won't. But here, you're mine until the minute we leave. Okay? Until the sun comes back up and we have to leave,” she says. 

“Okay,” I mumble right before she kisses me. The sun finally slips beneath the horizon right as I slip into her. We move slowly together as darkness eases in around us, the gentle sound of the waves guiding our rhythm. 

And a part of me hopes the sun never comes back up. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

To Be Continued...


	6. Godric's Hollow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very many years have passed and truths start to be revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's mention of characters who have died in this chapter. They lived nice, long lives.

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

The house is so empty. The children have been gone for years and now Ginny... 

I don't want to start crying again. It's almost Christmas and I know all the kids feel they have to come and visit. I should decorate at least. She's been gone for eight months and I should at least put up a damn wreath on the front door. If only I knew where she kept all that stuff. The attic. It has to be in the attic. 

“Lumos,” I say, holding out my wand in front of me as I make my way up the creaky old steps. The attic is filled with the detritus of our life together and with our kids. Broken broomsticks. Old school trunks. Cages from owls no longer with us. In the corner, on a shelf I find only one box marked 'Christmas' with Ginny's handwriting. 

I pull the box down but it is too light to have anything in it. Setting it on an old desk that made its way up here years ago, I pull off the lid, expecting to find tinsel or old ornaments. Instead, I only find a sheet of paper, folded neatly in half. 

I pause for a moment before reaching for it. On it, also in Ginny's handwriting, is written “Harry & Hermione.” My heart leaps against my rib cage and I find it hard to breathe. I'm too scared to open it. Too scared to find out what I'm certain it says. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

“Harry?” I call out into his dark house. He sent me an owl and told me to come over as quickly as I could so I apparated in to find... nothing. “Harry, I'm here. Where are you?”

I haven't seen much of him since he lost Ginny. I know how bad the first year is. With Ron, it was the longest year of my life, always coming home to that big house alone. Rose stayed with me for a while but had to get back to her own life. I always thought that if Ginny... I don't even want to go there. We stopped this a few years ago. Once Ginny got sick with something the healers couldn't fix, there was no way to go anywhere anyway. 

I find him sitting at the table in his darkened kitchen, a piece of paper sitting in front of him. With my wand, I open some of the curtains and set a few candles ablaze. He doesn't look in my direction and now I'm really worried. 

“Did something happen to one of the kids, Harry?” I ask. He shakes his head 'no' and pushes the paper toward me. I take a seat at the chair next to his and look at it, our names written together by Ginny. I flinch just a little before I put it back down without reading the contents. 

“She always knew, Hermione. She and Ron both knew for years,” he says and I sigh heavily. I don't really know what to say. Now that they are both gone, what is there to say? “They knew and let us go every year and said nothing. What kind of person would put up with that?” 

“No one should.”

“Yet, they did.”

“What does it say?” I ask. I don't want to read it but he can tell me. It will be easier that way. 

“She wrote that she hopes now you and I can spend our last years together. That she and Ron would want for us to be happy no matter how much it hurt all those years. That she wanted to hurt me but didn't want to lose me. I suspect that hiding it in a Christmas box is her way to hurt me now,” he says with a heavy sigh. 

I sit back and stare at the yellow sheet of paper, still neatly folded. I don't know what I would have done if I was her. Would I have stayed? Would I have put up with what he and I were doing all those years? I don't know. I don't have any answers. I don't know why Ron stayed. Love? Devotion? Comfort and ease? 

“So where do we go from here?” I ask, slightly afraid of the answer. I can't lose him. Not after all of these years. The last few years have been rough with all the losses but I can't lose him, too. 

“I don't know,” he says. Nothing more. 

I knew someday we'd be punished for what we did all those years. Life doesn't let you get by that easily. I just hoped my punishment wouldn't be losing him. I could bear nearly anything at this point but losing Harry. 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

She cooks something from what little I have in the pantry and puts the plate in front of me. I don't want to eat and I push it around until she sits beside me and chastises me like a child. Just like Hermione always has. I take a bite and look at her, hoping one of us knows what's next. 

It could be so easy. It's not like everyone knows what's been going on all this time. Two old friends now alone find love and companionship in their later years. No one would even question it. After all, we've been friends since we were children and only related through marriage. 

Stranger things have happened in our world. And who would blame us for taking some comfort where we could find it? Harry Potter, the boy who fucking lived to be an old man. No one should even care anymore. 

“The children will understand,” Hermione says as if she's reading my mind. “They wouldn't want us to be alone for the rest of our lives.”

“And our friends?” 

“Let them think what they want, I suppose. They stuck by you through an awful lot, Harry. I think you and I spending the last of our days together isn't going to be what sends them fleeing,” she said. Always so astute, my Hermione. Always thinking everything through. Well, most everything. We wouldn't be in this predicament if we had honestly thought everything through all those years ago. 

We sit in silence for several long minutes. Silences have rarely ever been uncomfortable with Hermione but this one is. There is still a crackling of guilt coursing through the room and it's going to be a while before either of us can forgive ourselves. 

“They knew,” I say more to myself than to her. I have to say it one more time to make my brain accept it. 

“Yes. Yes, they did.” 

*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*^^*

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want it to end on an incredibly happy note. I wanted them to realize that while they could now be together, this thing did have an impact on many lives. 
> 
> Also, I really did attempt to write a lot of this while I couldn't write a word. Months would go by with just a few words here and there. I'm so sorry about the quality of it all. My ability to write is better now even though my life has fallen completely apart (you'll never guess how my marriage ended!)


End file.
